


Thaw

by e_wills



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 06:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14889437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_wills/pseuds/e_wills
Summary: Yet another shameless NSFW piece where Hiccup and Astrid use their body heat and desire to keep winter's chill at bay.





	Thaw

They were pushing their luck. Footsteps in the fresh snow had to be obvious. A trail led away from Astrid’s tent and stopped just outside another tent: a larger tent, guarded by a Night Fury. No trodden path led back from it; no indication Astrid had left Hiccup’s side. If any of the other riders came asking some asinine question, or if the twins were simply on the prowl for mischief, the evidence was plain. They would realize how Hiccup and Astrid chose to ward off the cold. 

That wasn’t a hard conclusion to make, even for Tuffnut baked out of his mind on dragon nip. 

The other riders knew about them, of course, but Hiccup and Astrid had always been discreet to a point. The snow now provided a whole new factor to consider, yet they threw caution to the wind that evening. 

That night was bitterly cold, and their tents were pitched so close. Temptation was too great; the warmth of skin on skin, too inviting. Hiccup did not need an explanation when Astrid had dipped into his tent unannounced. She lowered her hood and lingered there, nose and cheeks nipped pink by the air. Her eyes were alight with her intentions. 

Hiccup had simply tucked his charcoal pencil in the crease of his sketchbook and shut it with a very pointed snap. He would have gone to her, but he was covered in furs and his prosthesis had been laid to the side. Once, he had been self-conscious whenever she saw him less than whole—but eventually got over it, with all the times she she had touched him what was left. Never had there been even the slightest flicker of disgust on her face, because it was just another part of him. 

Setting the book down, he murmured, “Come here.”

And so she did, pulling off her clothes and making fast work of his. The candlelight was just bright enough to give every angle of her body a soft, enticing glow. 

She knelt beside him, pulling her hair loose to tumble down her shoulders—naked, vulnerable, powerful. She had some kind of spell over him and he wanted her then. 

Her fingertips traced along his jaw like little icicles. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and he mapped the length of her arm. Her bare skin was cold beneath his hands, so he touched her with hopes of warming her to the temperature of his desire. They spent more nights together than they did alone now. Sex still did not feel habitual, and he hoped it never would. Astrid’s figure whetted his appetite like no one else could. Her eyes did not help; that predatory look ignited something devious in him.

With a gentle tug of her wrist, she was in his arms, pressing into him and satisfying their mutual addiction for each other’s naked skin; that compulsion for friction, and the need to diminish the unnecessary space between them. 

She pulled back the furs and straddled his lap, claiming his lips. Soft textures contrasted with the possessive nature of the kiss—but that was Astrid: so smooth and supple and fierce. She took what she wanted and paid it back in full. Every rough glide of her lips over his, or graze of her teeth, was matched by hands splayed across his chest. He was getting high off the taste of his lover’s tongue, and losing himself in the way a subtle tilt of his head could meld their lips together seamlessly. 

His hands roamed over her shoulders and down her spine, thawing the last vestiges of winter’s chill. She sighed into his mouth, content, and he breathed her in. He appreciated everything, from the smell of her skin to the slight chap on her lips, courtesy of the Archipelago’s bleakest season. He did not mind. She was still perfect. Always perfect to him, and only for him.

Her nose brushed along his cheek as she suckled on his upper lip. The touch was light and fleeting but it made her more real: a little detail to distinguish the reality of the moment from his more salacious daydreams.

They were two pieces of flint, striking together to create a spark. Her tongue sought his and it deepened the kiss to something wet and steamy, like the humid coils of Berk’s hot springs. The snow continued to fall steadily outside, but in their nest of furs, they were pure vents of heat converging.

Sharp teeth nibbled along his jaw and he exposed his neck for her. The gasp in his ear was a bolt of desire to his cock when he reached beneath the bundles furs to grab her ass. She rocked up onto her knees, his face pressed into the valley of her breasts in a way that turned his blood to liquid fire, pulsing hot and thick. A hardened nipple brushed across his bottom lip, and it was far too delectable for him to ignore. He kissed it reverently before teasing the delicate bud with his tongue.

“Hiccup,” Astrid purred, and his rigid length twitched to hear his name so wantonly spoken, “I want you. I want to ride every inch of you.”

And what Astrid Hofferson wanted, she got. Or else, she would take it—not that Hiccup would ever refuse her anything.

She sank down onto him, and his head fell back with a throaty moan. It was so warm, wet, and so perfect. Gods in Asgard, he could forget the world existed for a moment; there was nothing else.

“Whatever it takes to keep you warm,” he murmured, hands grasping her hips when she began to move with a devastating rhythm.

She smiled, nuzzling the side of his face as her body just consumed him.

“That’s why I stopped by” she teased.

“Stay,” he whispered, brushing his lips over the graceful column of her neck. “It’s cold outside.”

“Mmm. It sure is warm in here.”


End file.
